


Bullet with Butterfly Wings

by lmharmon



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-18 22:34:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmharmon/pseuds/lmharmon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The angel was strapped into a chair not unlike her own, but he was much bloodier, and he had an angel blade sticking out of his thigh. His head was rolled to one side, clearly unconscious. Even from the doorway, Emma could see the tears on his cheeks. This surprised Emma the most; she hadn’t known angels could cry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Warehouse

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't done much writing lately, aside from school stuff (which is totally different), so I'm a little rusty, but I hope it's still a good story and you can enjoy it! :)

Emma jolted awake. Her eyes popped open, and a groan escaped her lips. In her unconsciousness, she’d been able to briefly forget where she was, but now reality was back. She was in the same, dark torture room, strapped to the same chair she’d been in this morning. Or was it evening? Yesterday evening? She really couldn’t tell. All she knew what that this Crowley bastard had strapped an IV full of dead man’s blood to her arm and only weaned her off when he wanted to come and torture her some more. Which must be the case, if she was awake. 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!”

The sound would have made her jump, but she was used to it by now. It had become a sort of routine. First, Crowley would stop the IV on her, and then, while he was waiting for her to wake up, he'd go and torture the guy down the hall. Or, so she assumed, based on timing. The interesting bit, though, was that Emma was pretty sure that “the guy down the hall” was an angel. She hadn’t seen him, but she could smell him; in a building full of demons, and one vampire, the angel shone the brightest. He hadn’t been here as long as her, though. From the bits and pieces of conversation she’d been able to pick up from Crowley’s cronies, he’d been moved here from another of their warehouses. Something had happened there, to do with the prophet. She wasn’t sure what, though. In any case, she promised herself that she’d try to save the angel, too, if she ever figured out how to get out of there. Maybe, if she was nice, he wouldn’t kill her afterward. 

The click of the lock in the door stirred a memory, and Emma realized she’d forgotten her favorite part of the routine: mealtime. Between her waking up and Crowley coming to torture her, one of Crowley’s demons would come in with a bag of not-dead-man’s-blood and strap it to her other arm. She doubted they really cared that she was hungry, but having been fed did make her a bit more lucid. 

And then she remembered something else. 

The last time Crowley had finished with her and put her back under, a different demon had put the less fun IV back in, and he’d accidentally bent the tubing. While he went to get another one, Emma had used her last bit of strength to mumble a spell to loosen the chains binding her, though not enough for anyone to notice. And by “anyone,” that did not include Crowley. It had to be now or never. 

Emma sucked in a breath, and tried to summon every ounce of strength she had in her. She watched as the demon stepped into the room, and closed the door behind him. She smelled, and then saw, the bag full of human blood in his hand. Ignoring her hunger, she sized the demon up, and realized that he had a good foot on her, and also appeared to be in perfect health. The logical part of her brain told her that she shouldn’t even bother, but the other half said that it was time to get out. And so, as the demon came to stand in front of her, Emma let out the breath and lurched forward. 

The iron chains slipped from her body easier than she had expected, though the IV ripping from her arm made her wince. The demon took a step back in surprise, and this gave Emma a moment to gain her balance, get a good grip on one of the chains, and fling it around his neck. Though she was already dizzy from the effort, she somehow managed to spin him around and maneuver him into the chair. She then picked up the rest of the chains and threw them over him. “Ligatis,” she said, and the chains lifted themselves up like snakes and bound him to the chair. As a bonus, they covered his mouth without Emma even having to ask. Still got it, she thought. 

As she turned toward the door, she noticed the IV bag the demon had brought in, still intact, laying on the floor at her feet. She picked it up and tucked it under one arm, then slowly made her way to the door, listening for even the slightest of sounds. When she reached it, she pressed an ear against it, and listened some more. Down the hall, she was certain Crowley was still torturing the angel, who she’d promised she’d try and rescue. Other than that, the nearest demon was a few floors up. “Celare,” she said, and felt a familiar tingle spread through her body, and watched as her fingers, and then her arms, disappeared from sight. Uncertain how long she’d be able to keep the spell working, she quickly pulled open the door and slipped out into the hall. 

As she quietly closed the door behind her, a door down the hall banged open, and Crowley came storming out, cursing. “Bloody useless,” he said, wiping blood off his face with a handkerchief. Emma held her breath as Crowley stalked past her, and let it out when he was safely beyond her door and heading up a flight of stairs. Still, she didn’t know how long it would be until he was back, and she didn’t really want to find out. She made her way down the hall and poked her head into the door he’d conveniently left open. She froze. “You poor thing,” she whispered. The angel was strapped into a chair not unlike her own, but he was much bloodier, and he had an angel blade sticking out of his thigh. His head was rolled to one side, clearly unconscious. Even from the doorway, Emma could see the tears on his cheeks. This surprised Emma the most; she hadn’t known angels could cry. The Enochian symbols drawn on the floor and walls probably had little to do, at this point, with what was keeping him in place. 

Emma stepped into the room and closed and bolted the door behind her; if Crowley came back, she wasn’t going to make it easy for him. “Revelare,” she said, and she popped back into existence. She then made her way over to the angel and knelt down beside him. “Hey,” she said, shaking his shoulder, “Wake up.” The angel moaned, and his eyes opened a fraction. For a moment, he focused on her, before drifting back into unconsciousness. Emma shook him again, “Hey, no. I need you to wake up.” When the angel didn’t move, she considered leaving him and getting herself out of there, but she knew she couldn’t. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered, and then smacked him, hard, across the face. The angel’s eyes flew open as he cried out. Emma grabbed him by the chin, and made him look at her. “Do you know what I am?” she asked. It took the angel a moment to focus, but when he did, she was certain she could see the confusion etched behind the blood. “Vampire?” he said weakly. 

Emma nodded, “Okay, good.” She then, as gently as possible, pulled the angel blade out of his thigh, ignoring the noise he made as she did so. Holding the blade up in front of him, she said, “I’m going to try and get you out of here, but if you try anything, I will not hesitate in killing you. Understand?” The angel studied her for a moment, and then inclined his head slightly. 

“Like you have the strength for it, anyway,” she said. She stood up and took a step back. For a brief moment, she wondered, again, if she shouldn’t just leave him, but then she heard herself say, “Dimittam,” and the bonds holding the angel fell to the floor. Tucking the IV bag into her tattered jeans, and the angel blade through a remaining belt loop, she stepped forward and slung one of the angel’s arms over her shoulder. Slowly, she helped him stand. That’s when she heard footsteps. 

Emma cursed. “Alright, you’re going to have to move your feet,” she said to the angel. As quickly as she could, she dragged the both of them to a corner and lowered the angel to the floor. She crouched down beside him. The adrenaline rush that had kept her going this far was slowly starting to fade, and she could feel her energy draining. But she didn’t have time to think about it. She gripped the angel’s arm tightly and again said, “Celare.” She faded first, and then the angel. 

“WHERE IS SHE,” Emma heard then. Crowley must have just entered her room and found his demon tied up instead of her. She could just imagine his face. 

“She better not have taken the bloody angel with her,” Crowley said next. Listening closely, she could hear that he was just leaving her room, the demon she’d tied up on his heels. They were heading toward them. “Don’t make a sound,” she whispered to the angel. 

When Crowley reached the door and found that he couldn’t open it, he cursed, kicked it, and then blasted it off. Pieces of metal shot around the room, and Emma put an arm up to protect herself. In the next moment, though, she put it down so that she could watch Crowley, who was daintily stepping over the bits of metal to stand before the angel’s empty torture chair. “That’s a clever trick,” he said, his eyes wandering the room, “but the door was locked from the inside. I bet you’re still in here.”

The demon Emma tied up was standing in the doorway. He took a quick survey of the room, then frowned. “Where?” Crowley rolled his eyes. “She’s a witch, too, you know. She’s probably got an invisibility spell going on.” With that, he marched to the nearest wall and pressed himself against it, arms out. He slide to the left and kept going. “I’ll find you,” he sang. “Even if I have to make a fool of myself doing it.”

Shit, Emma thought. Crowley was currently on the opposite side of the room, so she had a bit of time, and she already knew a spell that would work, but she didn’t know if she could actually make it work. But she had to try. So she waited until Crowley was on their wall, and only a few feet from them, before thinking, ACCIPERE CORPUS MEUM. Emma cringed as Crowley’s butt went through her face, but she was too relieved to really care. She watched with amusement as Crowley crept around the rest of the room, growing more anxious as he went.

“Or maybe not,” he said, once he’d reached the center of the room. Then he looked up. “Or maybe you’re ON THE CEILING.” Crowley threw his hand up, and fire burst from it, covering the ceiling. Emma covered herself once again as burnt debris rained down on her. When the fire stopped, Emma glanced up to see Crowley’s disappointed look at the lack of charred bodies that had turned up at his feet. 

Crowley sighed and turned to the other demon. “Guess they’re not here,” he said. Then added, “That was a nice trick, though.” The demon blinked. “What trick?” 

“Her locking the door from the inside to hold us up,” Crowley said. “If she wasn’t St. Vampire, I’d consider giving her a job.” 

The demon nodded. “Would you like me to get some men together to look for her?”

“Nah, you won’t find her, not now,” Crowley said, pushing past the demon into the hallway. “But I’m sure we’ll run into her again eventually. In the meantime, find me someone else to torture. Who else do we know that might know something about the tablets?”

“Revertetur corpus meum,” Emma whispered as Crowley and the demon made their way back down the hallway. When Emma felt her hand against the angel’s arm again, she slung it back around her shoulder and pulled him up. As she started to make their way toward the door, the angel started to mumble something. Emma stopped. “What?” she said. “The...Enochian symbols,” he said. 

Oh. She’d completely forgotten about that. Glancing around the room, she saw that the fire had destroyed some of them, but others were still intact. “Delere orbem rigidum,” she said. She watched as the remaining symbols lifted themselves from the walls, and the angel on her shoulder felt a few pounds lighter. “Thank you,” he said. 

“Don’t thank me yet,” Emma said, as they stepped out into the hallway. She had no idea where she was going, or which way would take them to the nearest exit, but she knew she didn’t want to be anywhere near Crowley, so she turned and went down the hallway the opposite way from which he’d always come. 

Sometime later, Emma dumped the angel on his back behind a bush about 10 yards into the forest just beyond the warehouse. Emma fell down beside him. “Revelare,” she said at last. As far as she could tell, the warehouse was in the middle of nowhere, with only one road stretching out east and west. At the moment, there wasn’t much she could do about that, but maybe, once she’d had something to eat...

She pulled the IV bag out of the band of her jeans, and brought it to her mouth. She torn a hole with her teeth and began to drink. Nothing had ever tasted sweeter. 

And then she noticed the angel watching her. 

Instinctively, her hand went to the hilt of the angel blade, still in her belt loop. The angel watched this happen, but he didn’t look concerned. Perhaps he was still too weak to be. “It’s rude to stare,” she snapped, then continued to drink from the bag, one hand still on the blade. 

“Can you get us out of here?” the angel asked. He was still watching her. 

Emma wiped her mouth. “Well, no,” she admitted. “Not without a car, anyway. But I was thinking, once I stop feeling like shit, maybe you can do that soul-thing to me and then you can get us out of here.”

The angel frowned. “What soul thing?” 

“Don’t play dumb,” Emma said, “The thing where you touch someone’s soul and it heals you. I’ve heard it works with vamps, too.”

“You do know how dangerous that is?” the angel asked. “It’s extremely painful. And I could kill you.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “I survived being tortured by the King of Hell for who knows how long. I’ll take my chances.”

The angel continued to watch her as she finished off the bag and tossed it to the side. His eyes then shifted down to the hand that was still holding the blade. “How do you know I won’t just do it and then leave on my own? Or kill you first?”

Emma shrugged. “I don’t. But it’s either that or try walking to the nearest town. Which may be far. In tattered, bloody clothes. And there’s also the fact that I just saved your life. I’m hoping that that will be a contributing factor in your decision.” 

“Are you sure?” the angel asked. Emma pulled herself up into a sitting position. She was starting to feel much better. “Go for it,” she said, turning toward the angel. The angel nodded and hesitantly reached a hand up and gently placed a hand on her stomach, just below her breast. In the next moment, Crowley’s torture felt like nothing. 

The next thing she knew, a hand was brushing the hair out of her face and a voice was asking her if she was okay. Emma groaned and opened her eyes. The angel, now bright-eyed, but still covered in blood, was kneeling over her. Without thinking, Emma scooted backward, out of his reach, and pointed the angel blade at him. To her surprise, the angel actually looked hurt by this. 

“I won’t hurt you,” he said. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Emma said, not dropping her hand. 

Even now, the angel seemed to be unconcerned with the blade, as if he didn’t think she’d actually use it. Instead, he looked her in the eye and asked, “I think I may be able to get us out of here now. Is there anyplace in particular you’d like to go?”

Emma stared at the angel suspiciously. He didn’t appear to mean her any harm, but it was sometimes hard to tell with angels. Slowly, she decided to lower her hand. “Um...New York City. 11 East 61st Street.” 

The angel nodded. “As you wish,” he said. Emma watched as he leaned forward and pressed two fingers to her forehead. 

For a moment, everything went black, and then she was lying on the cold, marble floor of her hotel lobby. A quick look around her told her that everyone in the vicinity was staring at the two, blood-caked individuals who had just appeared out of nowhere. No one said a word. 

Until...

“Samandriel?” a deep voice said.

The angel turned to his left, and Emma followed his gaze. A man in a trenchcoat was staring at them incredulously. Another angel. 

“Castiel?” The angel, presumably Samandriel, said. He sounded confused. 

And then, past Castiel, another figure stepped into the lobby, and froze when he saw her. Emma frowned. I must be seeing things, she thought. But then the figure turned to look at someone behind him, someone she didn’t recognize. “Emma?” Benny called. Several of the lobby’s occupants turned to look at him. All Emma could do was stare in amazement. You’re supposed to be dead.


	2. Vampire Hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma has a chat with her old friend, Benny, and has to explain to the Winchesters about the "Vampire Hotel" she runs. Drama ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a lovely Thanksgiving! (Unless you're not American, then nevermind)

“I CANNOT BELIEVE THAT YOU BROUGHT TWO HUNTERS INTO MY HOTEL.” 

Emma was seething. After some brief introductions, Emma had grabbed her old friend, Benny, who had supposedly been popped from purgatory after 50 years, and forced him into the hotel’s back room, which she’d renovated into an apartment for herself. There, in her living room, she gave him a nice, long “welcome back” lecture. She hadn’t even bothered to change out of her bloody, tattered clothes. “And not just any hunters. Sam and Dean Winchester. I know you’ve been gone for a while, but those two, they have a pretty good reputation for killing anything they find.” 

“Let me explain-” Benny started for about the hundredth time. But Emma wasn’t done. 

“Yes, I know, Benny,” Emma cried. “You came here after finishing some business with your old vamp buddies and you were told that I’d gone off on a hunt a few weeks ago and never checked back in. You then proceeded to come to the conclusion that because your new BFF Dean is hunting a demon who’s after the tablets, and I happen to know a thing or two about the tablets, that you should call him and ask him if he knows where I might be. A hunter, Benny.”

“Well, first of all, you’re a hunter, too, and as it turns out-” The look Emma gave him made him stop short. Though she had been one of his dearest friend, she was also the scariest. The fact that she was covered in blood didn’t help. 

Benny sighed and, slowly, tried to start again. “Look, Emma, after I met...Andrea, way back when, you were the one that, after a brief attempt at chopping my head off, taught me how to, at least try, to be human again. You showed me where to get blood from so that I wouldn’t have to hurt anyone. You got me a fake ID. Hell, you even got me a real job. I owe you a lot. So believe me when I say that I wouldn’t have brought Sam and Dean here, or their angel friend, if I didn’t trust them.” 

Emma’s expression softened slightly at this, though Benny could tell she was still furious. “What exactly did you tell them? When you called?” 

Benny shrugged. “That you knew about the tablets and I thought the King of Hell might be privy to that information.”

“And did they ask how I knew about the tablets?” Emma asked. 

“Of course,” Benny said.

“So what did you tell them?”

Benny allowed himself a smirk. “I told them they’d have to ask you.”

Emma let out a breath, relieved. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Benny said, then hesitated before asking, “So, what did you tell him? Crowley, is it?”

“Nothing,” Emma said, shaking her head. “He might think he’s good at torture, but I’ve had worse.”

Benny nodded. “And what about the angel you showed up with?”

“I don’t really know,” Emma admitted. “But Crowley put him through a lot worse than he put me through. And...I don’t think he handled it very well.”

Before Benny could respond, the door to Emma’s apartment burst open, and Sam and Dean Winchester came charging in, followed by one of the desk attendant’s, Kate, a blonde, college-aged werewolf who’d showed up at the hotel not long before Emma had been captured by Crowley. All three looked annoyed. 

It was Dean who spoke first, a finger pointed at Emma. “I want you to tell me what’s going on here.”

Emma blinked at him innocently. “In regard to what?”

Before Dean could respond, Kate cut in, “He seems to think we’re building some kind of vampire/werewolf army to take over the human race,” she explained. “Also, we keep getting phone calls about how you showed up covered in blood in the middle of the hotel lobby with an angel. And that there was already an angel here. And two hunters. What exactly am I supposed to tell them?”

“Tell them that they’re friends,” Emma said, shooting a glance at Benny that clearly said, They better be. As Kate turned to leave, Emma turned to Dean. As politely as possible, she explained, “We are not, as you say, building an army. It’s simply a place that provides refuge for vampires, werewolves, and the like, who don’t, you know, want to kill people. I assure you, that’s all.” 

Dean looked incredulous. “That’s all? I’ve been a hunter all my life and I’ve never heard of a place like this.”

“Well, we wouldn’t exactly want you to, would we?” Emma said. “Have you ever read Harry Potter?”

“What?” Dean said. 

“I have no idea if that’s a yes or a no, but in Harry Potter, there’s a magical school called Hogwarts that has enchantments placed on it that keep Muggles - normal people - from ever finding it. Also, the Ministry of Magic has loads of other ways of keeping magic a secret,” Emma said. 

Dean stared at her. “So, you’re saying that there are magical enchantments on this building so that hunters can’t find it?”

Emma nodded. “Yes. Unless we, for some reason, want them to.” She shot another glance at Benny. 

“And exactly how long has this been here?” Dean asked.

“Oh, about a hundred years, give or take,” Emma said. “It says on the sign out front. There’s one in Shanghai that’s been around way longer, though. And the one in London...”

Dean still didn’t look convinced. “So, what? You want me to believe that a bunch of pro-human monsters hang out in a hotel together and braid each other’s hair?” 

“If you want to think of it like that, sure,” Emma said. “We also try to bring in newly-born “monsters” and try to encourage them to be...pro-human.” 

“And where do you get your...stuff from?” Dean asked.

Emma raised her eyebrows. “You mean like...blood? We have donors.”

“Donors?”

“What? It’s not that weird,” Emma said, suddenly defensive. “People donate blood to good causes every day, so what’s so different about this? Granted, it’s not something you’d talk about over dinner, but...”

“What about werewolves? What about the ones that need...organs?”

“We have several morticians who are more than willing to help us out. We always do our best to provide for those who need it,” Emma said. “And, because I’m sure it will be your next question, we have cells down in the basement for werewolves, during the full moon.”

At this point, Dean looked back at his brother to see if he was buying it, but Sam was too busy glaring at Benny to notice. Emma made a mental note to ask the other vampire about that later. Presently, it seemed, Dean had more questions for her. 

“So-”

Dean was cut off by the two angels entering the room, and Emma found that she was pleased to see them. The angel she’d rescued, Samandriel, unlike her, had bothered to clean himself up. She hadn’t really noticed when he’d been covered in blood, but the fact that his vessel’s name was “Alfie” and that he worked at a Wiener Hut was of great amusement to her. However, she didn’t think now would be the best time to mention it, as the angel appeared to be upset. 

At last, Dean turned his attention away from Emma and turned to the trenchcoated angel, Castiel. “Did you get anything out of him?”

Castiel glanced at the other angel, who ducked his head. “Well, Samandriel is the one who gave Crowley the other prophet’s names, but that’s all-”

“Son of a bitch,” Dean cursed, rounding on the other angel. “You’re an angel, and you couldn’t-”

Castiel’s voice was sharp. “Leave him-”

For all of a nanosecond, Castiel blipped out of existence, and then was back, “-be.”

Neither Sam nor Dean, nor Castiel himself, seemed at all bothered by this, but Samandriel’s head jerked up in surprise, and Emma and Benny exchanged a glance. 

“You’re going to defend him?” Dean said angrily. “Some of those people died, Cas.”

“Um...Cas?” Emma said hesitantly, before the angel could respond to Dean. “Where did you just go a second ago?”

The angel turned to her. He frowned. “Pardon?”

“She wants to know where you flew off to mid-sentence,” Benny said. “That’s not exactly normal behavior, you see.”

“I...don’t know what you’re talking about,” Castiel said, exchanging a glance with the brothers, who seemed equally confused. “I haven’t gone anywhere.”

“Yes, you did,” Samandriel said quietly, looked both concerned and thoughtful. “They must be wiping your memory. And they don’t want the Winchesters to know...” A light bulb seemed to go off in the angel’s head. “Perhaps that’s why they brought you back.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know anything about that,” Castiel said.

Samandriel chewed his lip. “I don’t, but... I need to go to heaven.”

Before anyone could argue, there was a whoosh, and the angel was gone. 

 

Inias’ heaven of choice was of 1988 Machu Picchu. It belonged to Howard Downing, who’d died of AIDS in early 1989. Samandriel found Inias standing on a hill overlooking the site, watching Howard take photographs with his girlfriend down below. The other angel looked surprised to see him. 

“Samandriel?” Inias said. “Where have you been? I’ve be looking for you, as have Ariel and Laylah. We asked Naomi if she’d sent you somewhere, but she said she hadn’t...”

“She had,” Samandriel said, letting another puzzle piece fall into place. “She sent me to Earth to retrieve the demon tablet from an auction. The King of Hell captured me from there, and has been torturing me for information. I’ve only just escaped.”

A look a horror crossed Inias’ face. “Oh, Samandriel, I’m so sorry. If I’d have known... I don’t know why Naomi would have sent you... that’s not your job... And why would she lie about it?”

“That’s what I need to find out,” Samandriel said. “What do you know about Castiel?” 

“You think he has something to do with it?” Inias asked, perplexed. 

Samandriel studied Inias closely, then shook his head. “You don’t know he’s back, do you?”

Inias looked lost. “Back? From...purgatory?”

“Yes,” Samandriel said. “He’s with the Winchesters. I was just with them. He... he was saying something, and then he disappeared for a moment, then reappeared. He, nor the Winchesters, seemed to have any recollection of it. I can perhaps understand the Winchesters not noticing because they’re human, but Castiel... someone must be wiping his memory. And there are few among us who have the power to do that, especially to Castiel.”

“You think... Naomi?” Inias said. Samandriel could tell he was having a hard time processing this. Naomi had always been kind to them, but...

“Who else?” Samandriel asked.

Inias nodded slowly. “I’ll go and talk to her.”

“I’ll go with you,” Samandriel said automatically. 

“No,” Inias said. “It’s going to be dangerous, even for me. If Naomi’s planning something... it’s unlikely that she’ll be happy to be questioned. Go back to Earth and keep an eye on Castiel. I’ll come to you when I can.”

Before Samandriel could say anything further, Inias was gone.

 

By the time Samandriel returned, Emma had shooed everyone back into the hotel. She had finally washed, and changed into pajamas, and was currently watching Classic Who on her couch. When the whoosh came, signaling the angel’s reappearance, the vampire nearly jumped out of her skin. Not that she’d ever admit to it. 

“You know, I could’ve been naked,” Emma said. 

“I’m...sorry. I meant to go to the lobby again, but this place is somewhat hard to find,” Samandriel said.

Emma looked pleased. “Good. I don’t want anymore angels popping in here.”

Samandriel hesitated. “Well, there might be one more...” Emma’s face fell. “But he’s trustworthy. You needn’t worry about him.”

“Better not,” Emma mumbled, then asked, “So, what happened in heaven?”

“I spoke to Inias...the angel who might be coming. It seems no one knew that I was assigned to come to Earth. Or that Castiel is back,” Samandriel said. “Inias went to talk to Naomi, to see if she’d tell him anything.”

“Who’s Naomi?” Emma asked.

“She’s...our new leader, of sorts. Someone needed to take charge after what happened with Castiel.”

“Ah, yes,” Emma said, “I must get more details about what happened with that. I do believe I recall seeing him on the news some time ago. He killed some campaign workers, I believe. Among others.”

Samandriel looked uncomfortable. “Yes... Well, I think I should go find him now.”

“Don’t bother,” Emma said as the angel made to leave. “I’m pretty sure the Winchesters have got it covered. After me, you, and Benny freaked out about the whole disappearing thing that they can’t seem to see, those two aren’t going to let him anywhere out of their sight. Not that that’s likely going to help, but at least let them pretend for a bit, eh? You ever watched Doctor Who?”

“I...don’t know what that is,” Samandriel said. 

Emma pointed at the TV. “It’s a show about an alien that travels the universe in a blue box.” 

Samandriel glanced at the TV. “I don’t think that’s possible.”

“It doesn’t have to be possible, it’s television,” Emma said. She patted the couch. “Come on, watch.”

The angel glanced around the room and found the angel blade propped up in a bookshelf, far out of Emma’s reach. “You’re not afraid I’m going to kill you anymore?”

Emma shrugged. “If you really wanted to, I suspect you’d have done it by now.” 

Samandriel studied the vampire for a moment. She was pretty, he supposed, with shoulder-length brown hair and hazel-colored eyes. She was shorter than most humans, only 5ft. And she was young, barely older than a child. Or, that’s how she appeared, anyway. When he’d touched her soul, he’d realized just how old she really was. Not as old as him, but old. 

Though he knew that there were more pressing matters, Samandriel found himself taking a seat beside the vampire and turning his attention to the TV. He listened as Emma started to explain a bit more about the show, and how the current “companion” of the man called the Doctor was Sarah Jane Smith, and how she was Emma’s favorite. They watched a few episodes with her, and Samandriel found that he quite liked her, too.

Sometime later, around the early hours of the morning, Emma said that she ought to go to bed. Awkwardly, Samandriel stood up. “I guess I’ll go and find Castiel, then.”

“It’s kind of creepy that you guys don’t sleep,” Emma commented, yawning. “Also, you should change out of your vessel’s clothes. I just can’t take you seriously in that.”

“What’s wrong with-?”

Whoosh. A figure crashed into the room, stumbling over the TV. Both hit the floor. 

“Inias!” Samandriel said. He rushed to the figures’ side.

Emma took a step back and glanced toward the angel blade on her bookshelf, then at the newly arrived angel. He was brown-haired and dressed in a suit and tie. He was also bloody, and had yet another angel blade sticking out of his stomach. Emma suspected it had been meant for his heart. 

“Who did this to you?” Samandriel asked, though he already knew the answer.

Inias coughed and blood spattered on his lips. Emma was not certain he could speak, but then, it came, barely a whisper.

“Naomi.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It may be a while before this is updated, as it's coming up on the last two weeks of the semester. I promise I'll write more when I can! :)

**Author's Note:**

> If you could please comment and tell me what you think - good, bad, ugly - that would be lovely!
> 
> Cheers!


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